Summary: "The Young Wolf enters the Corridors of Time, seeking to chart the plane for...
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Destiny Fragments - A Collection of Paraversal Destiny One-Shots
- Thread starter Draedon's Forge
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Destiny Fragment I: Wolf's Grave
Draedon's Forge
Synthetic God
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Summary: "The Young Wolf enters the Corridors of Time, seeking to chart the plane for themselves, only to find the remnants of a dark future hidden within…"
The duo walked the halls of the Corridors of Time and found it connected to worlds unknown. Beyond each door lied timelines and simulations unimaginable, their contents so alien that even the Young Wolf found them odd, and they were a peculiarity amongst the Risen. They were one of the Traveler's Chosen, forged in her Light and blessed with paracausal power, and they used her blessing to protect humanity and fight the Darkness. Their triumphs were legendary: Hivesbane, Kingslayer, the Young Wolf, Hero of the Red War, and a hundred other titles they couldn't name. Their accolades were many, and though they were nameless, the denizens of the Sol System knew them as either a hero, a scourge, or an equal. The Guardian just didn't want to be called "Chosen One" in front of anyone else. They cringed at the very thought of the name. The Young Wolf wasn't as pretentious as their other titles, so they preferred that label, or the Guardian for informal settings. They banished the thought and focused on the mission.
"Guardian, I don't think these Corridors are a Vex construct. There's no radiolaria or machinery around," Ghost revealed, "nor does it seem like it has an intrinsic connection to the Infinite Forest. The Vex occupy it, but they aren't the architects of this place." Ghost zoomed around the conflux and scanned the left-most door. "Not this one," it said, its shell rotating around its core.
"You're sure this place isn't theirs?" The Guardian spoke, their armor dented from a minor scuffle with a Vex Minotaur earlier in the day. "That someone else made the Corridors of Time?" Their boots splashed against the liquid floors of the confluence and doused the Vex frames in water. Ghost finished its scan and turned to face the Guardian.
"Yes," expressed Ghost. "There's nothing characteristic of typical Vex architecture here: no radiolaria, no data lattices, no machine landscapes, and no simulation seeds are present within the Corridors. There's only the Vex and their timelines." Ghost resumed its scans and centered itself around the center door. The Light exuding from its core dimmed, and Ghost's shell snapped shut. "I think this is the path to the next room."
They were following a trail. Every door within the Corridors of Time led to worlds unknown, but their paths were decipherable, and they used that revelation to begin their quest. They sought to chart the Corridors of Time for themselves and discover secrets that could help the Vanguard—and, by association, humanity—fight against the Darkness. The Sundial, their transportation into the Corridors of Time, was their first step towards charting history, literally and figuratively.
"Good. How many timelines do we need to cross before we reach our destination?" The Guardian stepped towards the door and withdrew a hand cannon from their belt.
"A few more."
The Guardian nodded and charged a sphere of void-light in their hands. "Dematerialize for now; I don't want the Vex getting their hands on you."
"Got it." Ghost faded into motes of light, and the Young Wolf journeyed into the next room.
There were six Vex units in the room, each of them scattered across the chamber: three Goblins, all huddled near the left-most aperture; a Harpy, lingering near the central door; a Minotaur, standing sentinel over a platform in the middle; and a Wyvern, marching around the boundaries of the conflux with heavy steps. Each of them patrolled the chamber and guarded the Corridors against intruders. The Guardian flared their void grenade and hurled it towards the Goblins, drawing them into a vortex of void-light that reduced their brass bodies to smithereens. The rest of the Vex units pivoted towards the Guardian and drew their weapons, causing the Lightbearer to dive towards a barricade, unwilling to be subjected to the harsh energies of their slap rifles and torch hammers.
The Guardian holstered their hand cannon, withdrew a trace rifle from their inventory, and pre-charged it. Their puny hand cannon couldn't take on a Vex Minotaur, let alone a Wyvern, hence them swapping to a weapon suitable for combat against the Vex. Lunging to the left, they sprinted towards a raised platform in the center of the room, taking cover behind a broad pillar and tensing their trigger finger as their trace rifle burned with solar-light. They peeked over the barricade, aimed their weapon at the Vex Minotaur, and fired. Prometheus Lens pulsed with radiant energy, the crystal core of the weapon converting light into heat, directing a brilliant laser towards the Guardian's enemies and melting the Minotaur's frame in a torrent of solar-light. The immense firepower of the trace rifle burst its radiolarian core open, exposing the Vex mind to an inferno, which immolated the micro-organisms in a ferocious blaze. Prometheus Lens dimmed, its former roar reduced to a whine, for the weapon risked overheating if the Young Wolf discharged it for too long.
The Guardian advanced towards the Vex, an aurora emanating from their weapon, and stood vigilant before them. The Wyvern's wings spun in circular patterns and trilled with malicious intent, while the Harpy's plates expanded and formed a barrier around its chassis, its tentacles ready to strike out behind it. "Those plates will undoubtedly ward against Prometheus Lens' laser," the Guardian thought, "unless I can bypass their shields." Ghost, sensing this conundrum, suggested another weapon to use against the Vex—one which would act against their barriers and pierce their defenses.
It was one of the first weapons they considered a major part of their arsenal. They and Banshee-44, the Tower gunsmith, crafted it during a joint project many years ago. The Guardian recovered a Golden Age superconductor, once stashed within the Cosmodrome by the late Hunter Vanguard Cayde-6, to act as a battery for the weapon, while Banshee-44 crafted a submachine gun frame to affix the superconductor to. The weapon supercharged arc-light to tremendous heights: each of its volts became a charge, and each of those charges an arc, eventually culminating in a raging tempest at its zenith. It was a storm forged in the fires of the Golden Age—a powerhouse of progress, ambition, and legacy. It proved itself useful against the Fallen Houses of Earth, thus it merited a permanent presence inside their vault, waiting for the chance to call lightning upon humanity's foes.
The Guardian transmatted Riskrunner from their inventory and held it aloft. The Wyvern howled in defiance as bolts of arc-light slammed against its shields, and the Harpy, sensing the war cry, spun on its axis and charged a laser from its lens. Though Riskrunner was strong and worthy, so was its foe, and that presented a problem. Riskrunner only showed its true power when it absorbed incoming arc energy, implying the Guardian would have to take some shots to expedite the battle, or else they'd risk death by the Vex.
Resurrection was always an option, but the only means of reviving without a Ghost was taxing, and solar-light wasn't their forte. It was the very essence of nuclear energy, of fission and fusion, and it required vast stores of Light to use. Void-light, comparatively, merged potency and efficiency into one package. It was the energy of nothingness, of the space between atoms and the void of time before space existed, and that vacuum gave it power. "Matter, despite its omnipresence, composes only twenty percent of the observable universe," Ikora Rey once lectured them on, and they took her words to heart. They were a Warlock, and in their Light lied limitless possibilities, which they studied for the good of humanity across the Sol System.
The Wyvern poised itself for an attack, aiming its knees and weapon at the Guardian, before strafing towards them at a speed unsuited for its mammoth form. It rushed past the Young Wolf, who'd retreated behind a splintered tree, and channeled arc energy as it rose into the air. It dove downwards, and the Guardian, who had the misfortune of rising at the wrong time, took the slam head-on. The force of the blow cracked the floor beneath them, and the Wyvern focused its many eyes onto the Guardian, who only gazed up at its face with a manic grin.
"Got you," they said, and the Wyvern's arc energy flowed towards the Lightbearer, suffusing them with electric power and supercharging Riskrunner to its zenith. The Guardian tensed their forearms, and arc-light pulsed from them like chain lightning, each bolt frying the legs of the Wyvern and pressuring it to retreat. The Wyvern warped towards the Harpy and rose again, but it was too late, for the Guardian had called upon the Sky and brought a storm to the Corridors of Time. Arc-light roared across their body as they raised a hand towards the Vex.
The last thing the Wyvern saw was a light like stars.
The Young Wolf stepped over the corpse of the molten Minotaur and slumped against an intact barricade. Their Ghost materialized beside them, glowering at their busted armor, before cycling Light into them as their robes mended together.
"That was reckless," their Ghost chided, and the Guardian knew they were right. "We don't know how this place affects resurrections, Guardian, so we're better off staying alive for the time being." The Guardian stayed silent. "Guardian?"
"Yes, I know." Their reply was half-hearted and weary. "I'll try not to get body-slammed by a Vex Wyvern again." Ghost groused at their response, but ultimately accepted it, intent on calculating their path in the Corridors of Time before the Vex noticed their presence. The Guardian knew this because the bond between them went further than their symbiosis. The Light connected them on a metaphysical level, down to their very fundamentals, the crux of their existences. It was a mutual relationship: the Guardian fought the Darkness as an agent of the Traveler, and the Ghost fulfilled its purpose as an extension of the Guardian, acting in the Traveler's stead as her direct links to humanity. They were a team.
"Good. Now, we need to continue the mission. The energy signature we're following matches your Light, so I believe it's connected to you, if not caused by you entirely." Ghost turned away at this statement, though it eventually faced the Guardian again and snarked, "It's definitely the latter, considering this is you we're talking about. Nothing's normal with you." The Guardian snickered at Ghost's observations.
"Is there anything you can decipher from these readings?" The Guardian asked, a ghost of a smile present upon their masked face.
"Not in particular, though there's something off about this one; it's like the Corridors are leading us somewhere. I don't think it's a trap, though." Ghost scanned the broken tree in the middle of the room and said, "The probability of one is only sixteen percent."
"Sixteen percent is still a lot," the Guardian warned.
"Not here," Ghost rebuked, spinning on its axis. "The Corridors warp space and time regularly. My previous calculation, which I made before we entered this room, had a probability of eighteen percent. The chances of it being a trap are decreasing as we progress." The Guardian stood up and cleaned their robes of detritus.
"That's a good sign. I still think we should be cautious, though." They said, before grabbing Riskrunner off the floor and asking, "Which door is it?"
"This one," Ghost replied, zooming to the left-most door, the one where the Goblins felt the entropic decay of their vortex grenade. Not even their corpses remained now. "We're almost there. I estimate less than five jumps until we reach our destination."
"Alright, let's go." The Young Wolf held Riskrunner aloft and prepared for battle.
"It seems we've reached the end," the Guardian noted as Ghost scanned the central aperture.
"This room's larger than the rest. We don't know what lies beyond any of these doors," Ghost noted, its shell revolving around its core. It zoomed towards a crooked spire in the left-most corner and analyzed it.
"How do you scan this stuff, anyway? Is it just…I dunno, Ghost magic?" the Young Wolf asked, suddenly feeling very dumb.
"No," Ghost grumbled, seemingly weary of the superstition surrounding Ghosts, "it's not space magic, it's technology. You had the same tech during the Golden Age."
The Young Wolf adopted a smug grin at Ghost's rebuke. "If it's just technology, then how come Osiris hasn't used the Sundial for something like charting the Corridors of Time, or even manipulating it? Surely he'd do something like that in the name of humanity's progress," the Guardian asked, their arms crossed and a teasing grin on their face. They tapped their foot against the floor in a constant rhythm.
"I only discovered this path because it was keyed to your Light. I doubt Osiris would notice anything like this across the infinite realities this place connects to." Ghost dove to the floor and started scanning the slain bodies of the Precursor Vex. "And stop looking at me like that!" it cried. The Young Wolf figured it was trying to evade their smug aura. It wasn't working.
They broke the tension with a laugh and vaulted over a collapsed column. "I'm just messing with you, Ghost. You know I don't mean any of it." They dusted their hands and crouched down before the Precursor Vex. "I quite like their frames. They remind of the Leviathan, though without all the fancy bits, or the air of Calus' death cult. Much friendlier on the eyes, too."
Ghost groaned. "It's like you're turning into the next Osiris. Should've expected this from you. You've got Cayde's nature, Zavala's prudence, and Ikora's brilliance. Nothing good comes from that." They paused their scans and turned to face the Guardian. "Scratch that, you're turning into something far worse than Osiris. You know how he gets sometimes!" Ghost stressed.
The Guardian sighed at Ghost's antics. "Are you saying I'm more insufferable than him? Fine, I promise not to turn into the next Osiris, then. Deal?" the Young Wolf brokered, and Ghost accepted it without a second thought. They both knew this deal wouldn't last. Both of them would keep pressing onwards against the encroaching Darkness, doing whatever it took to save humanity, and experimentation akin to Osiris' studies wasn't unexpected. They already had information on something terrifying approaching the Sol System, given to them by the Vanguard, and it was their dogma and symbiosis that carried them this far; a little promise wouldn't break it.
"There's still some more stuff I have to scan. You'll have to wait a bit before I'm done." Ghost rose from the floor and hovered over the collapsed column they vaulted over earlier; it had a diamond-shaped icon on it, much like the other columns in the Corridors, though there were multiple symbols in each room and one engraved onto every column. They counted five symbols across every room they explored: a clover, a snake, a diamond, a plus, and a hex sign. Each of these symbols corresponded to different rooms, and Ghost catalogued all of them, hoping to chart a path through the Corridors of Time and back to the Sundial. It didn't seem like the Vex could manipulate the Corridors at will, so their way back was probably safe, but they wanted to get out of the Corridors of Time, regardless. They weren't safe in enemy territory.
The Young Wolf perched atop a raised platform and waited for Ghost to complete its scans.
"I've tracked it to this door, Guardian." The Young Wolf slid off the platform and blinked towards the central door. They put their hands to their sides and inspected the aperture for themselves.
"Any idea what's on the other side?" they asked, and Ghost shook its head.
"I can't get a read on anything past the door. All I know is that your Light converges here, in this room." Ghost looked downwards and said in introspection, "Should I improve my sensory capabilities? I couldn't detect where the Light originates from while in the same room as it. Surely that's abnormal for a Ghost?"
"You're doing fine as you are, Ghost, but it never hurts to improve." The Guardian sauntered toward the door as Ghost thanked them and dematerialized. The Guardian drew their sword and rushed into the room.
It was empty. The Guardian inspected the room and found no enemies lying in wait. They holstered their blade along their back and looked around the area.
The chamber was spherical, with struts descending towards a platform in the center, where a lone pedestal sat. There were no other entrances into the room, for the only door present was the one they entered from, and this place didn't seem to welcome the Vex. There wasn't an iota of foreign presence here. The Young Wolf descended towards the pedestal and stopped before the edge of the outer ring. There wasn't anything connected to the pedestal; the room had a boundary since they could see hexagonal outcrops below the central platform, but there wasn't anything connecting the pedestal to the struts, nor the platform to the outer ring. The pedestal hovered in the air regardless of gravity and material laws.
"Hey, Ghost," the Young Wolf muttered, "I need some Glimmer. Any size." They felt the weight of the Glimmer fall into their hand before they finished speaking. "Thanks," they said, before chucking the Glimmer at the nonexistent floor. Paradoxically, it collided with the place where there should've been a floor, showing that they could walk to the pedestal without gliding across. The Guardian probed the floor and felt their foot touch a surface. They walked across without issue, grabbed the Glimmer they threw at the floor, and saw what lied at the center of the room.
At the foot of the pedestal, which they now realized was a grave, was a Guardian seal, signifying that this was the burial ground for an honored Lightbearer. The Young Wolf put a hand to their head and saluted them. They leaned forward and inspected the top of the casket. Embedded within the grave was a sword and an inert Ghost, each of them bathed in the Light of the Traveler, and an inscription, its words glowing with Light, etched into a panel below the sword and Ghost. It was these three items that made the Young Wolf's blood run cold.
"...whose grave is this?" they whispered, the hairs on the back of their neck standing up. Ghost stayed silent. "Is it…mine?"
"...yes," Ghost stated, having materialized over their right shoulder, "...but also no. I believe this is you from another timeline—you from a dark future. That Ghost isn't me; it looks like me, and we share the same Light, but we're different on a fundamental level. The same goes for this other version of you. You don't share your fate: you forge your own."
"...hey, Ghost?"
"Yeah?"
"...thanks for everything you do. I don't think I'd have gotten this far without you. You helped me navigate the Cosmodrome and escape to the Last City. We killed Atheon and Crota together. Oryx died by our hands. Our fireteam is stronger because of you. I'm glad to have you as my friend."
Ghost had nothing to say to them. It could only nod and tell the Guardian to sort themselves out before they left. The Young Wolf took the sword from the grave, told Ghost to scan it, and set about expunging everything nonessential from their schedule for the next month. When Ghost asked why, they only said, "I just saluted myself because I didn't realize I died. I'm forging this weapon to make sure none of my other selves do that again. Plus, it's a cool sword, and I like cool swords." Ghost nodded at their roundabout logic and followed their Guardian back towards the Sundial.
They had a lot of work to do.
Discord Links:
Shiro's Gaming Omniverse - wd3tUYWVCd
Of Fiction and Fuckups - hcY94FPcpD
Emerald Library - elibrary
Assimilation Effect - uqfbz6s3JT
Hey there, everyone. I made this one-shot series to brush up on my writing and make sure I don't become rusty while on hiatus. I'll probably release these one-shots every three months if I don't upload within that period.
Now, onto the chapter itself: I've left the gender of the Guardian ambiguous on purpose because they're basically a self-insert character, but I might change that in future chapters if it gets annoying for me to write, especially since I keep messing up on the pronouns. I'm just glad CTRL-F exists so I can check for any mistakes
Regarding Assimilation Effect and its year-long hiatus, well, I've got good news for you! You won't have to wait long for the reboot! I'm still planning out the initial arc, but most of the important stuff is out of the way for now, and that's all that matters. Expect the first chapter within the next few months…if I get around to writing it. The first chapter has twelve planned scenes and I'm trying to break through writer's block at the moment, which is the reason I started this one-shot series, so be patient while I work through my own issues. It'll come quicker that way.
Also, I've made a Discord server for all my fics, primarily for the people who dislike the sheer degeneracy of SGO and oFaFu but don't want to join Emerald Library. It's marked as "Assimilation Effect" in the Discord list. Make sure to read the rules if you are going to join.
Anyway, have a lovely day, and I wish you all the best.
The duo walked the halls of the Corridors of Time and found it connected to worlds unknown. Beyond each door lied timelines and simulations unimaginable, their contents so alien that even the Young Wolf found them odd, and they were a peculiarity amongst the Risen. They were one of the Traveler's Chosen, forged in her Light and blessed with paracausal power, and they used her blessing to protect humanity and fight the Darkness. Their triumphs were legendary: Hivesbane, Kingslayer, the Young Wolf, Hero of the Red War, and a hundred other titles they couldn't name. Their accolades were many, and though they were nameless, the denizens of the Sol System knew them as either a hero, a scourge, or an equal. The Guardian just didn't want to be called "Chosen One" in front of anyone else. They cringed at the very thought of the name. The Young Wolf wasn't as pretentious as their other titles, so they preferred that label, or the Guardian for informal settings. They banished the thought and focused on the mission.
"Guardian, I don't think these Corridors are a Vex construct. There's no radiolaria or machinery around," Ghost revealed, "nor does it seem like it has an intrinsic connection to the Infinite Forest. The Vex occupy it, but they aren't the architects of this place." Ghost zoomed around the conflux and scanned the left-most door. "Not this one," it said, its shell rotating around its core.
"You're sure this place isn't theirs?" The Guardian spoke, their armor dented from a minor scuffle with a Vex Minotaur earlier in the day. "That someone else made the Corridors of Time?" Their boots splashed against the liquid floors of the confluence and doused the Vex frames in water. Ghost finished its scan and turned to face the Guardian.
"Yes," expressed Ghost. "There's nothing characteristic of typical Vex architecture here: no radiolaria, no data lattices, no machine landscapes, and no simulation seeds are present within the Corridors. There's only the Vex and their timelines." Ghost resumed its scans and centered itself around the center door. The Light exuding from its core dimmed, and Ghost's shell snapped shut. "I think this is the path to the next room."
They were following a trail. Every door within the Corridors of Time led to worlds unknown, but their paths were decipherable, and they used that revelation to begin their quest. They sought to chart the Corridors of Time for themselves and discover secrets that could help the Vanguard—and, by association, humanity—fight against the Darkness. The Sundial, their transportation into the Corridors of Time, was their first step towards charting history, literally and figuratively.
"Good. How many timelines do we need to cross before we reach our destination?" The Guardian stepped towards the door and withdrew a hand cannon from their belt.
"A few more."
The Guardian nodded and charged a sphere of void-light in their hands. "Dematerialize for now; I don't want the Vex getting their hands on you."
"Got it." Ghost faded into motes of light, and the Young Wolf journeyed into the next room.
There were six Vex units in the room, each of them scattered across the chamber: three Goblins, all huddled near the left-most aperture; a Harpy, lingering near the central door; a Minotaur, standing sentinel over a platform in the middle; and a Wyvern, marching around the boundaries of the conflux with heavy steps. Each of them patrolled the chamber and guarded the Corridors against intruders. The Guardian flared their void grenade and hurled it towards the Goblins, drawing them into a vortex of void-light that reduced their brass bodies to smithereens. The rest of the Vex units pivoted towards the Guardian and drew their weapons, causing the Lightbearer to dive towards a barricade, unwilling to be subjected to the harsh energies of their slap rifles and torch hammers.
The Guardian holstered their hand cannon, withdrew a trace rifle from their inventory, and pre-charged it. Their puny hand cannon couldn't take on a Vex Minotaur, let alone a Wyvern, hence them swapping to a weapon suitable for combat against the Vex. Lunging to the left, they sprinted towards a raised platform in the center of the room, taking cover behind a broad pillar and tensing their trigger finger as their trace rifle burned with solar-light. They peeked over the barricade, aimed their weapon at the Vex Minotaur, and fired. Prometheus Lens pulsed with radiant energy, the crystal core of the weapon converting light into heat, directing a brilliant laser towards the Guardian's enemies and melting the Minotaur's frame in a torrent of solar-light. The immense firepower of the trace rifle burst its radiolarian core open, exposing the Vex mind to an inferno, which immolated the micro-organisms in a ferocious blaze. Prometheus Lens dimmed, its former roar reduced to a whine, for the weapon risked overheating if the Young Wolf discharged it for too long.
The Guardian advanced towards the Vex, an aurora emanating from their weapon, and stood vigilant before them. The Wyvern's wings spun in circular patterns and trilled with malicious intent, while the Harpy's plates expanded and formed a barrier around its chassis, its tentacles ready to strike out behind it. "Those plates will undoubtedly ward against Prometheus Lens' laser," the Guardian thought, "unless I can bypass their shields." Ghost, sensing this conundrum, suggested another weapon to use against the Vex—one which would act against their barriers and pierce their defenses.
It was one of the first weapons they considered a major part of their arsenal. They and Banshee-44, the Tower gunsmith, crafted it during a joint project many years ago. The Guardian recovered a Golden Age superconductor, once stashed within the Cosmodrome by the late Hunter Vanguard Cayde-6, to act as a battery for the weapon, while Banshee-44 crafted a submachine gun frame to affix the superconductor to. The weapon supercharged arc-light to tremendous heights: each of its volts became a charge, and each of those charges an arc, eventually culminating in a raging tempest at its zenith. It was a storm forged in the fires of the Golden Age—a powerhouse of progress, ambition, and legacy. It proved itself useful against the Fallen Houses of Earth, thus it merited a permanent presence inside their vault, waiting for the chance to call lightning upon humanity's foes.
The Guardian transmatted Riskrunner from their inventory and held it aloft. The Wyvern howled in defiance as bolts of arc-light slammed against its shields, and the Harpy, sensing the war cry, spun on its axis and charged a laser from its lens. Though Riskrunner was strong and worthy, so was its foe, and that presented a problem. Riskrunner only showed its true power when it absorbed incoming arc energy, implying the Guardian would have to take some shots to expedite the battle, or else they'd risk death by the Vex.
Resurrection was always an option, but the only means of reviving without a Ghost was taxing, and solar-light wasn't their forte. It was the very essence of nuclear energy, of fission and fusion, and it required vast stores of Light to use. Void-light, comparatively, merged potency and efficiency into one package. It was the energy of nothingness, of the space between atoms and the void of time before space existed, and that vacuum gave it power. "Matter, despite its omnipresence, composes only twenty percent of the observable universe," Ikora Rey once lectured them on, and they took her words to heart. They were a Warlock, and in their Light lied limitless possibilities, which they studied for the good of humanity across the Sol System.
The Wyvern poised itself for an attack, aiming its knees and weapon at the Guardian, before strafing towards them at a speed unsuited for its mammoth form. It rushed past the Young Wolf, who'd retreated behind a splintered tree, and channeled arc energy as it rose into the air. It dove downwards, and the Guardian, who had the misfortune of rising at the wrong time, took the slam head-on. The force of the blow cracked the floor beneath them, and the Wyvern focused its many eyes onto the Guardian, who only gazed up at its face with a manic grin.
"Got you," they said, and the Wyvern's arc energy flowed towards the Lightbearer, suffusing them with electric power and supercharging Riskrunner to its zenith. The Guardian tensed their forearms, and arc-light pulsed from them like chain lightning, each bolt frying the legs of the Wyvern and pressuring it to retreat. The Wyvern warped towards the Harpy and rose again, but it was too late, for the Guardian had called upon the Sky and brought a storm to the Corridors of Time. Arc-light roared across their body as they raised a hand towards the Vex.
The last thing the Wyvern saw was a light like stars.
The Young Wolf stepped over the corpse of the molten Minotaur and slumped against an intact barricade. Their Ghost materialized beside them, glowering at their busted armor, before cycling Light into them as their robes mended together.
"That was reckless," their Ghost chided, and the Guardian knew they were right. "We don't know how this place affects resurrections, Guardian, so we're better off staying alive for the time being." The Guardian stayed silent. "Guardian?"
"Yes, I know." Their reply was half-hearted and weary. "I'll try not to get body-slammed by a Vex Wyvern again." Ghost groused at their response, but ultimately accepted it, intent on calculating their path in the Corridors of Time before the Vex noticed their presence. The Guardian knew this because the bond between them went further than their symbiosis. The Light connected them on a metaphysical level, down to their very fundamentals, the crux of their existences. It was a mutual relationship: the Guardian fought the Darkness as an agent of the Traveler, and the Ghost fulfilled its purpose as an extension of the Guardian, acting in the Traveler's stead as her direct links to humanity. They were a team.
"Good. Now, we need to continue the mission. The energy signature we're following matches your Light, so I believe it's connected to you, if not caused by you entirely." Ghost turned away at this statement, though it eventually faced the Guardian again and snarked, "It's definitely the latter, considering this is you we're talking about. Nothing's normal with you." The Guardian snickered at Ghost's observations.
"Is there anything you can decipher from these readings?" The Guardian asked, a ghost of a smile present upon their masked face.
"Not in particular, though there's something off about this one; it's like the Corridors are leading us somewhere. I don't think it's a trap, though." Ghost scanned the broken tree in the middle of the room and said, "The probability of one is only sixteen percent."
"Sixteen percent is still a lot," the Guardian warned.
"Not here," Ghost rebuked, spinning on its axis. "The Corridors warp space and time regularly. My previous calculation, which I made before we entered this room, had a probability of eighteen percent. The chances of it being a trap are decreasing as we progress." The Guardian stood up and cleaned their robes of detritus.
"That's a good sign. I still think we should be cautious, though." They said, before grabbing Riskrunner off the floor and asking, "Which door is it?"
"This one," Ghost replied, zooming to the left-most door, the one where the Goblins felt the entropic decay of their vortex grenade. Not even their corpses remained now. "We're almost there. I estimate less than five jumps until we reach our destination."
"Alright, let's go." The Young Wolf held Riskrunner aloft and prepared for battle.
"It seems we've reached the end," the Guardian noted as Ghost scanned the central aperture.
"This room's larger than the rest. We don't know what lies beyond any of these doors," Ghost noted, its shell revolving around its core. It zoomed towards a crooked spire in the left-most corner and analyzed it.
"How do you scan this stuff, anyway? Is it just…I dunno, Ghost magic?" the Young Wolf asked, suddenly feeling very dumb.
"No," Ghost grumbled, seemingly weary of the superstition surrounding Ghosts, "it's not space magic, it's technology. You had the same tech during the Golden Age."
The Young Wolf adopted a smug grin at Ghost's rebuke. "If it's just technology, then how come Osiris hasn't used the Sundial for something like charting the Corridors of Time, or even manipulating it? Surely he'd do something like that in the name of humanity's progress," the Guardian asked, their arms crossed and a teasing grin on their face. They tapped their foot against the floor in a constant rhythm.
"I only discovered this path because it was keyed to your Light. I doubt Osiris would notice anything like this across the infinite realities this place connects to." Ghost dove to the floor and started scanning the slain bodies of the Precursor Vex. "And stop looking at me like that!" it cried. The Young Wolf figured it was trying to evade their smug aura. It wasn't working.
They broke the tension with a laugh and vaulted over a collapsed column. "I'm just messing with you, Ghost. You know I don't mean any of it." They dusted their hands and crouched down before the Precursor Vex. "I quite like their frames. They remind of the Leviathan, though without all the fancy bits, or the air of Calus' death cult. Much friendlier on the eyes, too."
Ghost groaned. "It's like you're turning into the next Osiris. Should've expected this from you. You've got Cayde's nature, Zavala's prudence, and Ikora's brilliance. Nothing good comes from that." They paused their scans and turned to face the Guardian. "Scratch that, you're turning into something far worse than Osiris. You know how he gets sometimes!" Ghost stressed.
The Guardian sighed at Ghost's antics. "Are you saying I'm more insufferable than him? Fine, I promise not to turn into the next Osiris, then. Deal?" the Young Wolf brokered, and Ghost accepted it without a second thought. They both knew this deal wouldn't last. Both of them would keep pressing onwards against the encroaching Darkness, doing whatever it took to save humanity, and experimentation akin to Osiris' studies wasn't unexpected. They already had information on something terrifying approaching the Sol System, given to them by the Vanguard, and it was their dogma and symbiosis that carried them this far; a little promise wouldn't break it.
"There's still some more stuff I have to scan. You'll have to wait a bit before I'm done." Ghost rose from the floor and hovered over the collapsed column they vaulted over earlier; it had a diamond-shaped icon on it, much like the other columns in the Corridors, though there were multiple symbols in each room and one engraved onto every column. They counted five symbols across every room they explored: a clover, a snake, a diamond, a plus, and a hex sign. Each of these symbols corresponded to different rooms, and Ghost catalogued all of them, hoping to chart a path through the Corridors of Time and back to the Sundial. It didn't seem like the Vex could manipulate the Corridors at will, so their way back was probably safe, but they wanted to get out of the Corridors of Time, regardless. They weren't safe in enemy territory.
The Young Wolf perched atop a raised platform and waited for Ghost to complete its scans.
"I've tracked it to this door, Guardian." The Young Wolf slid off the platform and blinked towards the central door. They put their hands to their sides and inspected the aperture for themselves.
"Any idea what's on the other side?" they asked, and Ghost shook its head.
"I can't get a read on anything past the door. All I know is that your Light converges here, in this room." Ghost looked downwards and said in introspection, "Should I improve my sensory capabilities? I couldn't detect where the Light originates from while in the same room as it. Surely that's abnormal for a Ghost?"
"You're doing fine as you are, Ghost, but it never hurts to improve." The Guardian sauntered toward the door as Ghost thanked them and dematerialized. The Guardian drew their sword and rushed into the room.
It was empty. The Guardian inspected the room and found no enemies lying in wait. They holstered their blade along their back and looked around the area.
The chamber was spherical, with struts descending towards a platform in the center, where a lone pedestal sat. There were no other entrances into the room, for the only door present was the one they entered from, and this place didn't seem to welcome the Vex. There wasn't an iota of foreign presence here. The Young Wolf descended towards the pedestal and stopped before the edge of the outer ring. There wasn't anything connected to the pedestal; the room had a boundary since they could see hexagonal outcrops below the central platform, but there wasn't anything connecting the pedestal to the struts, nor the platform to the outer ring. The pedestal hovered in the air regardless of gravity and material laws.
"Hey, Ghost," the Young Wolf muttered, "I need some Glimmer. Any size." They felt the weight of the Glimmer fall into their hand before they finished speaking. "Thanks," they said, before chucking the Glimmer at the nonexistent floor. Paradoxically, it collided with the place where there should've been a floor, showing that they could walk to the pedestal without gliding across. The Guardian probed the floor and felt their foot touch a surface. They walked across without issue, grabbed the Glimmer they threw at the floor, and saw what lied at the center of the room.
At the foot of the pedestal, which they now realized was a grave, was a Guardian seal, signifying that this was the burial ground for an honored Lightbearer. The Young Wolf put a hand to their head and saluted them. They leaned forward and inspected the top of the casket. Embedded within the grave was a sword and an inert Ghost, each of them bathed in the Light of the Traveler, and an inscription, its words glowing with Light, etched into a panel below the sword and Ghost. It was these three items that made the Young Wolf's blood run cold.
"...whose grave is this?" they whispered, the hairs on the back of their neck standing up. Ghost stayed silent. "Is it…mine?"
"...yes," Ghost stated, having materialized over their right shoulder, "...but also no. I believe this is you from another timeline—you from a dark future. That Ghost isn't me; it looks like me, and we share the same Light, but we're different on a fundamental level. The same goes for this other version of you. You don't share your fate: you forge your own."
"...hey, Ghost?"
"Yeah?"
"...thanks for everything you do. I don't think I'd have gotten this far without you. You helped me navigate the Cosmodrome and escape to the Last City. We killed Atheon and Crota together. Oryx died by our hands. Our fireteam is stronger because of you. I'm glad to have you as my friend."
Ghost had nothing to say to them. It could only nod and tell the Guardian to sort themselves out before they left. The Young Wolf took the sword from the grave, told Ghost to scan it, and set about expunging everything nonessential from their schedule for the next month. When Ghost asked why, they only said, "I just saluted myself because I didn't realize I died. I'm forging this weapon to make sure none of my other selves do that again. Plus, it's a cool sword, and I like cool swords." Ghost nodded at their roundabout logic and followed their Guardian back towards the Sundial.
They had a lot of work to do.
Discord Links:
Shiro's Gaming Omniverse - wd3tUYWVCd
Of Fiction and Fuckups - hcY94FPcpD
Emerald Library - elibrary
Assimilation Effect - uqfbz6s3JT
Hey there, everyone. I made this one-shot series to brush up on my writing and make sure I don't become rusty while on hiatus. I'll probably release these one-shots every three months if I don't upload within that period.
Now, onto the chapter itself: I've left the gender of the Guardian ambiguous on purpose because they're basically a self-insert character, but I might change that in future chapters if it gets annoying for me to write, especially since I keep messing up on the pronouns. I'm just glad CTRL-F exists so I can check for any mistakes
Regarding Assimilation Effect and its year-long hiatus, well, I've got good news for you! You won't have to wait long for the reboot! I'm still planning out the initial arc, but most of the important stuff is out of the way for now, and that's all that matters. Expect the first chapter within the next few months…if I get around to writing it. The first chapter has twelve planned scenes and I'm trying to break through writer's block at the moment, which is the reason I started this one-shot series, so be patient while I work through my own issues. It'll come quicker that way.
Also, I've made a Discord server for all my fics, primarily for the people who dislike the sheer degeneracy of SGO and oFaFu but don't want to join Emerald Library. It's marked as "Assimilation Effect" in the Discord list. Make sure to read the rules if you are going to join.
Anyway, have a lovely day, and I wish you all the best.
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